Rumpelstiltskin's trick
by Ritz the freak
Summary: Ten years ago Sherlock and John's lives were changed forever with the birth of Hamish Watson-Holmes. But in the months after Hamish's birth mother is married, strange things have happened. The truth comes out about the origin of Hamish, something that the Watson-Holmes family had fought to keep secret
1. Chapter 1

1.

"Sherlock Holmes, put on some bloody pants!" John ordered, giving the finishing touch to his tie. He looked up the stairs as well. "Hamish, come down here. Let me fix your tie!"

"Why do we have to be early again?" Sherlock grumbled, pulling the trousers of his well-cut suit, John taking a moment to admire his husband's form in those tailored clothes. John gave a huff of frustration, pulling on Sherlock's clothes to make him go faster as ten year old Hamish was coming down the stairs, his suit a copy of his father's but his bow tie just hanging there. John gasped, rushing to Hamish, his mop of curls as unruly as his father's.

"Hamish, you said you were ready sweetheart." He said, tying his son's bow tie, Hamish blowing a curl out of his face. He looked over his shoulder. "Sherlock, it is your sister's wedding. My god!" He said, raising his voice slightly. Sherlock grinned slightly, pulling his shoes on.

"Dad, do we have to be on time for Aunt Vi's wedding?" Hamish groaned, John brushing Hamish's curls gently out of his face.

"Of course we do. You're the ring bearer, darling." John said, kissing his son's forehead.

"I didn't ask to be the ring bearer." Hamish grumbled, pulling on his shoes.

"Oh come on. Aunt Vi needs us for once." John noted, looking into the mirror, making sure he shaved properly, Sherlock coming to wrap his arms around his waist, kissing his neck.

"John, we're fine. Let's go." He said, nuzzling John's neck.

"Typical, waiting for Sherlock again." Mycroft huffed in the foyer of the church, pacing back and forth. All the guests were milling in the church pews, whispering about when the ceremony was going to begin.

"You're frustrated? I'm the one who's makeup is going to melt off" Vivienne Holmes noted, waving a program at her face to make sure her makeup was going to stay on, lifting her veil to do it.

"Ms. Holmes, is me hair okay?" Heidi asked her, one of her top students in her school and one of her bridesmaids.

"Yes, darling, you took lovely." Vivienne said, not even looking at her for a moment.

Mycroft stopped to look at his younger sister, marveling at his sister. At twenty-nine years old, Vivienne looked beautiful, her long lanky form mirroring her brother's; auburn hair taking after Mycroft's, her pale blue eyes like Sherlock's. Her wedding dress was a lacy clingy dress, ending in a classic train and lacy sleeves down her arms, Sherlock calling her Kate Middleton when he saw her, Vivienne hitting him for the comment. Mycroft smiled a little, a surge of pride seeing his sister about to be married.

"Is Greg checking his watch already?" Vivienne asked, Mycroft looking out the doors.

"Vi, just start the ceremony. Will looks like he's going to run over here and go get you." Mycroft looked over at his sister, who was checking her watch again. "I'd like to point out that WE weren't late for Sherlock's wedding." Mycroft pointed out. Vi said nothing, just looking over the program. She looked up.

"You put Dad's name on the program?" She said, holding it up. "Oh, and allow me to add that you felt the need to get a helicopter phoned in to get to the reception? Because the traffic was terrible? John was red for hours."

"It's customary to do that." Mycroft said, seeing his Benedict Holmes' name there.

"But he's been dead for fifteen years." Vivienne noted. "You're fired as my wedding planner." She huffed, handing the program back to him. Mycroft chuckled, reaching over flick his sister's ear. Vivienne slapping his hand away.

"Too late. And I doubt you'll be getting married again." Vivienne smiled at him, looking out the door, seeing her fiancé shifting in his best tux. Her darling fiancé Gregory Lestrade, who was trying to peer around the huge wooden door to see her. Vivienne grinned, suddenly giddy. After seven years of dating Greg, they were finally getting married, having lived with Greg for three years. Vivienne just couldn't stop grinning, looking at her fiancé, who was about to be her husband if her brothers could just get here on time.

"Sorry we're late." Vivienne looked over her shoulder, seeing Sherlock, John, and Hamish come in. Sherlock walked over to his sister to give her a hug, Vivienne responding by hitting his arm.

"I'm going to beat you to a bloody pulp." She hissed, giving her brother a huge hug all the same. Mycroft rolled his eyes, seeing John walking in with Hamish.

"Mycroft, I'm sorry. But I think you can guess who we were waiting for." John said, Mycroft having handed Hamish the ring box. Mycroft exchanged a look with John, Vivienne reaching over to give her brother in law a hug, quickly kissing Hamish's forehead.

"Hal, sweetheart, you look so handsome." Vivienne cooed to her nephew, Hamish blushing at seeing his favorite aunt dressed up like this.

"You look really pretty Aunt Vi." Hamish said, his pale blue eyes matching Vi's. Vivienne giggled, tousling his curls. Hamish grinned, his grin matching his 'Aunt', Mycroft signaling to start the ceremony. John gave Sherlock a quick kiss, going to sit with Victoria Holmes in the front, the three Holmes siblings getting into position as the procession began.

"This might not be a good time to say this, but if Lestrade does anything to hurt you, we'll kill him." Sherlock deadpanned. Vivienne burst out laughing, biting her lip as soon as the bridal match began. The Holmes siblings exchanged a look, all of them walking down the aisle, Vivienne biting her lip, Greg looking up to see her for the first time in three days. Both of them grinned at each other, Greg looking her up and down, his eyebrows raised. Vivienne looked him up and down as well, flashing him a quick wink. She glanced at the front row, where her mother and John were sitting, her mother wiping her eyes with a handkerchief, Vivienne grinning at her. They made it to the alter, Hamish standing next to Greg with pride at being a part of the ceremony.

"Who gives this woman away?" The pastor asked.

"We do" Mycroft answered, letting his sister go to Greg, Sherlock letting go of her hand reluctantly. Vivienne grinned at them, standing next to Greg, turning to him with a look of someone who was in the throes of love.

Two hours later found the wedding party at the Holmes family mansion, the sun setting as the dance floor was set up in the family ballroom, a room that hadn't been used since Sherlock and John's wedding. The tables were laid out in a formal dinner, the Holmes and Lestrade family in the front of the ballroom at the family table, Hamish running around the table to get to his aunt and new uncle.

"Aunt Vi" Vivienne tore herself from her new mother in law, looking at Hamish, looking at his tousled curls. Hamish held up a package wrapped up in newspaper. "Father told me I didn't need to give you and Greg a gift but here." He said, Vivienne giving her 'nephew' a big hug, showing the package to Greg, both of them trying to be polite and ignore the rotting smell in the package. Hamish looked like he was bursting with excitement. "It's a rabbit's foot Father got. Dad said it brings good luck."

Greg was the first to move, gently taking it out of his wife's hand.

"You're so sweet. Come 'ere" he said, pulling Hamish on his lap.

"Sweetheart, will you be calling Greg Uncle Greg do you think?" Vivienne asked, trying to straighten Hamish's curls. Hamish looked up at Greg, who was trying not to laugh at this exact copy of Sherlock.

"I'll think about it." Hamish noted, typical Hamish thing to say, slipping off Greg's lap to run to his father a few chairs over. Vivienne exchanged a look with Greg, going back to the conversation with Greg's mother Mary.

"As I was saying my dear, your dress is wonderfully tasteful." Mary said in his Scottish brogue, Vivienne getting closer to hear the older woman, practically in her new husband's lap. Greg laughed at his wife, pulling her over to sit on his lap, Vivienne giggling at her husband. Greg wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, Vivienne now sitting on him. She giggled, trying to get up.

"Greg darling, half the Bristish Government is here." Vivienne teased, adjusting her husband's tie.

"The entire London police force is here too. They'll arrest me if I get too forward." He teased, Vivienne leaning over to kiss her husband sweetly, Mary hitting her son.

"You two, please. Make room for Jesus." She said, her brogue getting thicker as she was getting flustered, Vivienne breaking away from Greg for the sake of this sweet woman.

"'Sorry Mary." She mumbled, taking a sip from a water glass, catching Sherlock and Hamish staring at her.

"Why isn't Aunt Vi drinking?" Hamish blurted out, Greg's face getting red.

"Aunt Vi doesn't feel like drinking Hamish." Greg tried to patiently answer. Sherlock glared at Greg.

"You just couldn't wait could you?" Sherlock hissed, Mycroft and Violet now looking over with interest.

"Sherlock, please." Vivienne warned, Sherlock putting down his fork.

"How long have you known?" Mycroft noted with interest, catching on to the conversation quickly.

"Oh sweetheart, couldn't you wait until the honeymoon?" Violet said, trying to keep her voice neutral. Vivienne tried to shush them, noticing the room was going silent.

"Sweetheart, what are you talking about?" Mary asked, slapping her husband's leg, who was sleeping in his chair. Greg and Vivienne exchanged a look.

"I'd say you're about six weeks along." Sherlock noted, John spitting out his wine at hearing it, Sherlock's words ringing in the room. "Well, John, why else did they cancel going to Tuscany for the wine tour?" Sherlock looked up, seeing that everyone was now listening, the sound of Molly's plate dropping to the ground the only sound. Greg and Vivienne looked to the other wedding guests, both of them getting up, Greg finally deciding to say something.

"Ummm, we wanted to wait to say this but yes in fact, we are expecting a child. We learned this about a week ago and we're both very happy to be beginning a new life together. Thanks." Greg said.

"So can I take back the wine of the month club subscription?" Anderson called out.

"Nope, pregnancy is temporary state and only affects one person." Vivienne chimed in.

An hour later found the tables cleared and the party was in full swing, everyone dancing to a jazz band that was playing in the corner. And Sherlock was outside on the balcony, enjoying a cigarette next to Mycroft.

"You could have put more tactfully Sherlock." Mycroft noted, taking the cigarette from his brother to take a puff himself.

"Why couldn't she have told us? Was it really so hard to tell us 'Oh hello everyone, I'm about to have another baby'?" Sherlock asked, blowing smoke in the air.

"It's her choice Sherlock. You aren't the only one who was a little surprised. Mummy is fuming in the ladies room you know. Really Sherlock, out of all the tactless things you've done before-" Mycroft looked over his shoulder, seeing Vivienne and a group of wedding guests in the middle of the dance floor, Hamish telling his aunt a joke as they danced, Vivienne's laugh loud enough for Mycroft and Sherlock to hear it, a smile coming to Mycroft's face. "It's good to see her happy. After everything that happened before" He noted. Sherlock simply nodded, watching the stars as he smoked. Mycroft turned to him. "Well Sherlock, what did you think of my attempts at helping plan the wedding?" He asked.

"The fish was dry, the decorations look dated, and you invited too many people." Sherlock snapped, throwing the cigarette butt on the ground.

"I hope you're going to pick that up" Both men looked over, seeing Vivienne leaning against of the French door, her veil in her hand, looking tired but glowing with happiness. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders as he watched his younger sister.

"What for? You know Mummy's servants will just pick it up anyway. Also, shouldn't you be inside? I'm sure Greg is looking for you." Sherlock noted, sitting down on one of the benches. Vivienne grinned at him, advancing on her brother.

"No, Greg knows exactly where I am. In fact, what do you think we were discussing during our first dance? " She asked, reaching over to playfully slap her brother, hitting him with her veil while Mycroft looked on, laughing at them both. Sherlock raised his hands to protect himself, ending up with the three of them both hysterically laughing, Vivienne now next to Sherlock on the bench.

"And now we're even. But really Sherlock, you could have put it more tactfully." Vivienne said, straightening her dress and hair. Sherlock's face fell, glaring at his sister.

"Well you could have told me though." He snapped, Mycroft getting on the bench as well, the three of them now crammed in together.

"I was planning on telling everyone later. Did you see Greg's mum's reaction? She's appalled at the mere suggestion that we had sex." Mycroft visibly stiffened at the word "sex" related to his younger sister but did nothing about it. "The plan was to tell you all privately and then tell Mary that we conceived during the honeymoon."

"And how were you going to explain the fact you switched the honeymoon from a wine tour to Norway?" Sherlock asked, struggling not to laugh.

"We-The wine prices got too high?" She said, the three of them sharing a laugh, Vivienne leaning her head on Mycroft's shoulder. She smiled, reveling in the fact her and her brothers were at peace. "This pregnancy will be so much better than the last one." She pointed out.

"It was worth it though." Sherlock said, glancing sideways to see Hamish on the edge of the dance floor with John. Vivienne nodded, Sherlock leaning his head against his sister's shoulder, the three of them saying nothing for a moment, considering how Hamish came to be, the day that the three of them were finally reunited, giving Hamish's birthday double meaning for all of them.

"Jesus, the three of you actually quiet together? My god, is hell freezing over?" Vivienne looked up, seeing Greg on the balcony with the three of them. She grinned at him, getting up to embrace her husband, gently kissing her husband, Greg cutting a wonderful figure in his tuxedo. Greg's arms wrapped around his wife's waist as well, kissing her.

"Could you not do that in front of us? That's disgusting." Sherlock shouted. Greg smiled at his favorite consultant.

"Oh, come off it! We're brothers now!" Greg said in his thick accent, Vivienne leaning her head against his chest as he talked her arms around his waist.

"Well, doesn't mean I want to see it. Go to Norway and do that."

"We will. Tomorrow." Greg pointed out, Vivienne's face turning red at the idea.

"We couldn't find a flight until tomorrow. So Mummy told us we could stay here tonight." Vivienne added. Sherlock made a face of disgust, Mycroft looking away.

"Oh course Mummy would want to keep you around a little longer." Mycroft noted.

"Just don't….well-" Sherlock said, suddenly awkward.

"Oh god no. We're so tired we're not going to do much more than sleeping." Greg said, Vivienne nodding along with him. Sherlock shuddered at even being intimate in the same house as his mother, Vivienne and Mycroft shuddering as well at the idea, Greg and Vivienne deciding to go back into the ballroom, where people were wondering where they were.

"Did you see Anderson's reaction when Hamish threw that cake on him?" Greg asked, carrying a laughing Vivienne into the guest room her mother set aside for them, the best guest room in the house actually, with a four poster bed covered in a red silk duvet. The separate sitting area's fireplace was already roaring with a nice fire. Greg put Vivienne down, both of them looking around with awe. Even Vivienne rarely stayed at her mother's mansion, both of them grinning stupidly at each other. Vivienne winked at her husband.

"Well, could you help me out of this?" She asked, turning her back to him, Greg more than happy to help her unbutton the line of buttons down her back, grinning as more of his wife was exposed to him. With the buttons undone, his finger drew a line from the nape of her neck down her spine, leaving the woman under him shuddering in pleasure. She shucked off the dress, leaving her in her silk slip, blue Greg noting with appreciation. She turned to him, giggling at him as she unbuttoned his jacket.

"I would swear darling, every time I see you, you're more handsome than before." Vivienne said, laying small kisses on his jaw, rubbing her hand on his five o'clock shadow, finally getting his shirt unbuttoned, Greg's hands running up her sides.

"And I get to call all of you my wife now." Greg said, grabbing her arse playfully, his wife giggling in his ear.

"Sweetheart, if you get any cheekier, I'll have to call the police." She teased, Greg picking her up and carrying her to the bed.

"Vi, I am the police. And if you keep resisting I'm trained to restrain you." He teased, throwing her on the bed, pulling himself on top of her. For a moment both of them stared each other down, looking at each other tenderly, Vivienne hand reaching up to caress her husband's cheek. Greg and her finally broke into giggles, their forehead's touching as they laughed.

"So, how did we go from just signing papers at city hall to a large ceremony?" Greg asked, moving to lie on his side, kicking off his trousers, Vivienne sitting up to help him.

"Well, you know how Mycroft works" Vivienne trailed off, throwing Greg's trousers to the other side of the room, laying back down with Greg's arm wrapping around her waist. A year ago, they had attempted to elope without the Holmes-Lestrade family getting into the specifics. But of course Mycroft had a tracking on all of his siblings. On that day, Greg and Vivienne had gone to city hall with Sally as their witness, intercepted by Mycroft's team, leading them into Mycroft's office.

Mycroft had at the time been very firm that he would not allow his sister to just marry with some common city hall paperwork and nothing else, having called up his mother to ask when the mansion would be ready. And then the wedding preparations blew up. Greg's mother was contacted and she demanded a catholic ceremony, dress designers were hired by Violet Holmes, the font of the invitations was mulled over. But now it was over. Now it was just the two of them, laying side by side, just watching each other.

"Are you still not going to take my name?" Greg asked, brushing a stray curl out of her face. Vivienne gave him a small smile.

"Vivienne Lestrade. Could we get anymore stuffier?" She teased, close to falling asleep. Greg gently moved the sheets out from under his wife, covering both of them with the sheets. He pulled her even closer, His hand running up and down her side.

"Love you." She said, reaching up to kiss him, Greg's soft lips against her own comfortably.

"Love you too Vi." Greg said, putting his hand over her stomach, thinking of their child coming soon.

"What if it's too cold in Norway?" Vivienne whispered half asleep as her fingers played with his hair.

"I'll warm you up. If we have to, we'll just spend all day in bed and order room service." Greg reassured her, moving his leg to rest over hers. Vivienne's face fell into contentment, Greg smiling at his wife as he kissed her forehead, falling asleep himself.


	2. Something come wicked

2.

"_Vi? Vi? Are you sleeping?" The cockney accent of the older girl woke fifteen year old Vivienne up, already curled up and as comfortable as she could be on the lumpy bed. _

"_What do you want?" Vivienne hissed, careful not to wake the other ten girls in the room, St. Martha's home for girls as still as it could be. _

"_Heard you were going to a new home." Trish whispered from the bed next to her. "Heard you were going to the Henderson's home." _

"_Yea, so? It won't last long." Vivienne noted. No one wanted to keep teenage girls for long. Mostly Vivienne lately would find herself at a foster home for only a few weeks before something 'didn't work out', finding herself back at the home. _

"_Yea, you'll stay for long. But you'll be buggered every night" Trish hissed at her. "Last month, Hattie went to the Henderson house. Caddie said she could hear the husband buggering Hattie from the next house over." _

"_That's bullshit." Vivienne hissed, a surge of fear rising in her. _

"_Nu-uh, it's true. Caddie never lies about anything." Vivienne rolled over. _

"_Shut up." She hissed, pulling the blanket over her._

"_No, it's true, Vivi Lomeh. You better get the hell out of here before you get buggered and you die." Coddie said with a smug smile. Vivienne glanced over at the girl._

"_You're so full of shit." She hissed at her. Though as she laid her head back down on the pillow, she was mentally planning out her escape plan, something inside of her breaking. Saying that she wasn't in fact going to lie there and take being moved from place to place. She had to make a change. _

"_And you want to reopen the case?" Lestrade asked, his head in his hands as he considered Sherlock's offer. "Bloody 'ell this isn't even my division Sherlock." Lestrade said more to himself and not to the man in front of him. _

"_It doesn't matter. You're the only one who will even hear me out on this." Sherlock stiffly said, putting down the file. Lestrade opened it, seeing a picture of a two year old little girl, her pale blue eyes and curls all too similar to Sherlock. "She was given up for adoption by my father. But somehow after that she just fell off the radar. No record of adoption, no record of hospitalization, no death record, nothing." He said, his eyes glancing at Lestrade watching the file. He looked up, glancing at Sherlock._

"_It's been 13 years Sherlock. Times have changed. You won't find a little girl. You'll find a young teenager, a girl who possibly doesn't want anything to do with you. She could have been adopted already. Maybe her name was changed." Sherlock nodded stiffly. _

"_I just need to know what happened to her." Sherlock only said. _

"_No, you're just lonely. Honestly Sherlock, just admit you want your sister and I'll take the case. Now, if you'll excuse me I've got business to take care of. Like why everyone decided to commit suicide." Sherlock got up, saying nothing as he put his coat and scarf back on._

"_Fine then, I have an appointment anyway." He said, clearly hurt by Lestrade's lack of empathy._

"_What appointment?"_

"_I'm meeting a possible Flatmate." Sherlock shouted, slamming Lestrade's office door. Lestrade sat back in his chair, huffing in frustration._

Two months after the wedding the dark rings under Greg's eyes were clear as he walked into the house, hanging up his coat, the smell of pot roast simmering in the air, Greg instantly perking up at the scent. Walking into the foyer, he saw his wife curled up on the couch, stopping to admire her.

Vivienne had been grading papers before she fell asleep, a student's paper resting on her chest, moving up and down with her breaths. Her sweater was rumpled from moving to get comfortable on the couch, her jeans unzipped to give her small belly room, her curls around her face. Greg could only grin like a school boy at seeing his beautiful wife like this, at one in the morning, having tried to stay up waiting for him. He went to the couch, moving her legs so he could lay himself down between them, gently moving the paper to the ground to rest his head in his favorite spot between his wife's breasts, which to his enjoyment were getting bigger.

She woke up the minute she felt the weight of his body over her own, grinning at him as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Mmm, welcome home darling." She murmured, kissing the top of his head. Greg reached over to kiss her gently, one of his hands gently rubbing at her stomach. Vivienne broke away, her forehead touching his. "The pot roast might be done by now." She whispered, nuzzling his neck. She reveled in the feeling of her husband's five o'clock shadow, something Greg fought to keep off though she loved it all the same, trying to convince him many times to let his facial hair grow.

Greg gave a crooked smile, getting up to get the pot roast out. Vivienne watched her husband walk away, putting papers down next to her on the floor. The papers could wait. Being married to a DI meant she didn't get to spend much time alone with her husband, taking every moment she could to spend small moments like this. He came back a few minutes later with a two plates loaded with meat and potatoes, handing Vivienne the larger plate as he sat on the other end of the couch, their legs tangled together. Vivienne wrinkled her nose at the larger plate but ate it all the same.

"How was work?" She asked, Greg's feet sneaking under her arse to warm his feet.

"Anderson is being a diva as always, Sherlock and him fighting as usual. Really, just an average day. Yours?" He asked, Vivienne's feet under his arse as well.

"It was good. I promised the girls I'd make brownies if they all got 4.0's on their exam. Then one of them asked if there was going to be pot in them. You know, the usual." She mused, biting into a piece of the meat. "Oh, and Beth found out her baby's going to be a boy. I started on the booties already." She said, nodding on her knitting nearby. Greg nodded, just enjoying the time with his wife, just content to be lying down with the future mother of his child. "Oh and we have a doctor's appointment on Friday. I made it for the lunch break so we don't have to take time off." She said, taking a drink of water. "Maybe we could go to the sushi place after." She suggested, flashing a small smile.

"I'd like that." Greg said, smiling back at her, both of them getting back to their food, chatting about their jobs and what happened, about insignificant things as they finished their meal, Greg getting up to clean the dishes. Through the kitchen door, Vivienne watched her husband clean the dishes, content to see him around, putting her hand over the small bump on her stomach. In this moment, she couldn't be more content, having her husband with her and safe, their child coming in just six months, moved into the new house Mycroft gave them as a wedding present, both of them more than happy together.

He came back after getting the kitchen together, Vivienne not able to stop grinning at the fact he took off his shirt, showing the sturdy chest that she loved so much. She layed there on the couch, just watching him walk over, just admiring her husband. Greg had that smile on his face like he was planning something. Letting him pick her up, Vivienne held on around Greg's neck, letting him carry her upstairs to their bedroom, the master bedroom that was their favorite part of the house. He threw her on the bed, quickly jumping on top of her, both of them struggling to get their clothes off.

"Out past curfew, eh? You know the doctor told you to get a good night's sleep." Greg was growling as Vivienne got on top of him, pulling off his pants with her teeth. She took his pants off, now Greg was naked under her.

"Couldn't sleep. Maybe I need something that makes me tired." She said, letting out a moan when Greg's lips closed around her nipple, the older man flipping her over so he was the one laying over her, his thumbs hooked into her panties.

"You want to be tired? Fine, I'll make you tired." He hissed, pulling off her panties in one fell swoop. He entered her quickly both of them moving together in a learned pattern, Greg kissing her shoulder as he moved his hips, Vivienne's legs coming to wrap around his waist. Both of them were gasping in pleasure, Vivienne tightening her muscles around Greg to make him give a shout of pleasure, reaching down to take a nipple in his mouth as he moved harder inside of her.

Meanwhile, Hamish was waking up five miles away on Baker Street, the figure of a strange man sitting at his desk.

"Hello Hamish" The man's voice had a slight Irish accent, the voice teeming with malice. The boy took a moment to gauge if he was dreaming, rolling over on his side to watch the older man. This wasn't right, Hamish knew. He could scream right now and his fathers would be right there to get him. But he was curious about this man and who he was.

"Who are you?" Hamish whispered, his pale blue eyes scanning for possible escapes. The man sitting at his desk chuckled darkly.

"Oh sweet boy, they didn't even tell you, did they?" Hamish noticed the man had black hair, coarse and looking unwashed, his suit rumpled but still good quality. "I'm your father Hamish. Your mummy didn't talk about me did she?" He asked. Hamish shook his head.

"No, I don't have a mum. I think you have the wrong house." Hamish noted, pretty much ready to call for his fathers.

"Oh really? But you see your mum all the time. I'm surprised she would lie to you." The man hissed, looking through Hamish's books on the table. "You don't even know where you came from, do you?" He asked. Hamish shook his head.

"Da and Father are my parents. I don't need anyone else." Hamish said, sitting up to look at the man. The man leaned over to look at Hamish, a book in his hands.

"Hamish, I think you need to have a talk with your auntie about your mummy and where she is now. Don't you think so?" The man asked, standing up. The man walked over to the window, stepping out on to the fire escape. "I'm glad we had this talk Hamish. But Daddy's had enough now." Hamish sat up, watching the man leave. The boy went to the window, seeing that the man was gone in a flash, Hamish looking around. Was it a dream? He asked himself, laying back down.

_The months on the street hadn't been kind to Vivienne, her cheeks gaunt as she lay down on the park bench, a trench coat wrapped around her as she shivered, coughing again. And now she couldn't move from this bench, something that Trish had warned her about. 'Eat fruits and Vegetables.' Trish had cautioned as Vivienne was layering her clothes on to escape. 'The last thing you want is to get sick on the streets, especially during the winter.' _

_And now Vivienne was caught, sick on the streets and unable to move from the spot. _

"_And how's the new flat mate John?" Oh no, and two people decided to plop down on the bench next to hers, Vivienne hearing the click of a cane._

"_It's never a dull moment Mike. Thank you for telling me about him." John said, sipping a cup of tea. Vivienne shifted her head more under the coat, willing herself to not hear their conversation. _

"_It's good then. I was hoping the two of you would find each other." _

"_What do you mean by that?" _

"_Just that the two of you needed someone, being each other." Vivienne could almost hear the smaller man tensing up._

"_Mike, I'm not-"_

"_Listen John, I'm not saying that you are. I didn't mean anything by it." The Larger man was making the bench creak, driving the teenager mad, making her speak up._

"_Do you two mind?" She managed to croak out. Mike and John immediately looked to the voice, none of them noticing the girl, John the first one to get up._

"_Are you okay?" He asked, stepping towards the bench, Vivienne covering her head more. _

"_I'll be fine. Even better when the two of you shut your gob and let me sleep." She snapped. John and Mike cautiously stepped away, murmuring to each other. _

"_John, let's go-"_

"_Jesus Christ Mike, she's just a kid."_

"_No, she could be a junkie." _

_She knew what she looked like. But she had never touched drugs in her time on the streets. They were too expensive anyway. Most girls on the streets prostituted for them but Vivienne didn't want to lower herself there. Not yet anyway. They talked quietly a little more, someone setting something down next to the bench before she heard them step away. Rolling on her side, she saw a paper cup of tea, still steaming. The tea label was green, the same color that the small man had in his hand. She felt a surge of warmth, her hand shaking as she picked up the tea. _

"_Thank you." She whispered to no one in particular, picking up the cup to take a sip. The cup wavered, finally her fingers slipping, spilling the cup all over the pavement, the tea fanning out in hot liquid all over, Vivienne moaning in frustration. _

"_Are you sure? Sure that she just 'escaped'?" Sherlock hissed at the caseworker, the woman with bags under her eyes, who was cheating on her husband with a barista. _

"_Yes Mr. Holmes. She ran off months ago when she was assigned to a new house." The case worker calmly explained._

"_Well, why didn't you contact the police to go find her?" Sherlock shouted, shaking in anger in his seat. The caseworker leaned over, widening the gap between the buttons of her shirt._

"_Mr. Holmes, if we searched for every single runaway that falls through our system until they are found, we would exhaust the entire London police force. I understand your anger but we can do nothing for her. At this point, you have to look for her. I'd point for to the direction of a few of her old friends but we had the police question them and even they don't know where Vivienne could possibly be. I'm told that she just got up and asked to go to the store to buy some gum. Then she left and never came back." The woman explained, looking all the more tired just by talking to Sherlock. Sherlock looked around, seeing the amount of files that the woman had but in this moment he didn't care._

"_Why was she allowed to leave the home?" He demanded, the caseworker taking out Vivienne's file. Sherlock caught a glimpse of her recent school photo, seeing that this Vivienne Lomeh was most definitely his sister._

"_There was no reason not to let her. She gets top marks in school, did her chores in a timely manner, never fought with any of the girls. If anything she was sarcastic at times but she didn't bother anyone." The caseworker read off her file. "In short, when a fifteen year old girl asks if she can buy some gum, the answer is yes. I assure you, if she was ever a flight risk, someone would have said no to her." She repeated. _

_Sherlock glared at the woman, reaching his hand out to take the file. "Well then if you won't be any help I'll take this." He said, sliding the file into his coat. He and the caseworker got up at the same time. _

"_Sir? That's government property!" She yelled at him._

"_So what? You have enough to bloody worry about!" Sherlock yelled back, leaving the building._


	3. Hamish

3.

_The scuffling sounds against the back of the house was what woke Irene Adler up, the Woman having had a night off, using it for beauty treatments, drinking wine, and reading Colette. She sat up immediately, getting out the gun in her bedside table. _

"_Who's there" she called out, quick to throw on her robe as she went down the back stairs, seeing the most comical sight to date. It was a pair of legs sticking out of her garbage can outside, frantically kicking the side of the house to be let out. The legs themselves were long and definitely belonging to a woman, Irene stepping outside, turning the garbage can over. Vivienne tumbled out, garbage covering her hair, a used tampon sticking out of her curls, an orange peel on her shirt, everywhere._

"_Well well, looks like I caught a stray cat." Irene mused, putting her gun down as she examined the younger girl. Vivienne burned under her gaze, feeling gross, dirty for being caught rooting through garbage cans. She hadn't bathed in three weeks, she was wearing the same clothes for one month, and she was hungry. And here was this incredibly beautiful woman with cold cream on her face staring at her. _

"_I-I-I'm sorry." Vivienne stammered. "I won't do it again." Irene crossed her arms, studying the teen. Something was odd about this girl but she decided to let it go. _

"_Well if you're really that hungry, I'll let you eat something in the house." She said, turning around. Vivienne visibly relaxed, for once just happy to see someone treat her with some degree of kindness. As Vivienne sat down at the kitchen table, Irene turned around, her hand on Vivienne's shoulder. _

"_Thank you, Ms-" _

"_Adler. Irene Adler. And there's no need to thank me." As Irene spoke, Vivienne felt a jab into her arm, a needle. She gripped the spot, seeing that Irene had taken out a syringe. Vivienne looked up, not comprehending. "Ma'am, I-" Irene put a finger to her lips. _

"_Shhh, it's okay. Sorry sweetheart, but I have too many enemies." Irene said, holding Vivienne under her armpits as the younger woman slumped down to the ground. _

"Ready?" Vivienne asked Hamish, the ten year old currently throwing his backpack in the seat behind him. She lowered the music in the car, seeing that Hamish had dark circles under his eyes. "Sweetheart, did you sleep last night?" She asked as he went into the front seat, Sherlock and John having asked her to pick him up from school, also picking up Greg from work at the same time. Hamish took a slip of paper of his pocket, giving it to his aunt.

"They wrote me up for sleeping." Hamish murmured as Vivienne saw Hamish's teacher come over, Vivienne groaning at the sight of the woman.

"Stay in the car Hal." She said, getting out to face Deborah Lestrade, the woman who was Hamish's teacher.

"Deborah, I've heard Hamish was sleeping in class today." Vivienne said lightly, trying to keep it light with a woman who hated her.

"Mrs. Lestrade-"

"Holmes" Vivienne corrected. Deborah gave a small smile, as if she knew Vivienne would say that.

"Well I hope you speak to your brother about it." She said, her gaze going down to Vivienne's stomach, the slight bump there only visible because she chose to wear a wrap dress today, clinging to her form.

"I'm sorry he's not here. On a case you know." She pointed out, Deborah shrugging.

"I've noticed that, a lot." Deborah added. Vivienne gave her a sideways glance. Deborah glared at her, looking down at her stomach. "You know, Gregory never wanted a baby when we were married." Vivienne only shrugged her shoulders. Deborah glanced at the younger woman. "But with you, it seems a lot of things changed."

"Well people change, priorities change." Vivienne noted, wanting to make this quick, wishing she had put on her (Greg's) jacket. But that would piss off Deborah even more. "It's too bad. The girls miss you at the school." Liar. Deborah smiled at the younger woman.

"Well, like you said dear girl, times change." Deborah noted, taking out a cigarette, Vivienne wrinkling her nose at it.

"Well, we better be going. We've got to get things for dinner and pick up Greg from work." Vivienne said, quickly getting into the car. As she drove away, she could see Deborah staring her down through the rearview window.

"So Hal, do you want to explain why you aren't sleeping?" Vivienne asked as they went into London traffic. Hamish only folded his arms, looking out the window, making his aunt sigh. "I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong." Hamish only looked over at her.

"Aunt Vi, do you have strange dreams?" Vivienne gripped the wheel of the car as she turned.

"Sometimes. I'll share with you if you share with me." She said, echoing their old game from when Hamish was a toddler. Hamish shifted in his seat, still not meeting her eyes.

"There's a man who comes to my room at night. At least, in my dream. He tells me really bad things, like how Da and Father are bad people." Hamish said, wringing his hands, Vivienne trying to keep her breath focused.

"Oh? And what kind of bad things does he say?" She asked. Hamish shifted in his seat as Vivienne drove the car into the market's parking lot.

"He says that I see my Mum every day and that she's a….." Hamish swallowed, Vivienne's knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"Go on Hamish." She encouraged.

"A Cunt." Hamish said quietly. Vivienne parked the car quietly, her hands shaking as she backed the car.

"Hamish, that sounds terrible." She said silently. "I'm sure your birth mother would be crushed to hear you say that." She stepped out of the car, Hamish following her. The busy market was filled with people on this Friday afternoon, Vivienne stopping at the fish stand.

"Do you want to talk to your fathers about this?" Vivienne asked. Hamish shook his head.

"No, I don't think that would be fair." Hamish noted as his aunt reached over to give the little boy a hug. She held Hamish against her chest, trying to collect herself. God, her worst fear might be coming true. She could only hope that Hamish thought it was just a dream.

"Hamish, I want you to know something. Your birth mother loved her very much. She loved you so much that she wanted you to have the best Dads in the world." Vivienne said gently. Hamish considered for a moment.

"I wish you were my mom." Hamish admitted. "I always thought that she was a lot like you." He said, looking up at his aunt. Vivienne shrugged, picking up a fish. "Salmon?" She asked, hoping to change the subject. Hamish smiled a little.

"I'd like that." He answered, Vivienne quick to pay to have it wrapped up, putting the fish into her shopping bag.

"Good then. Let's pick out something to accent it." Vivienne lifted her voice in a false posh accent, making her nephew laugh, stepping around to another stand. As Vivienne went to pick out bread, Vivienne looked up for a moment, breathless at what she saw, a tall blond man about two hundred feet away, picking out some fruits, toned in a perfectly pressed suit. "Hamish, come here." She said, pulling the boy over to her.

"Aunt Vi, what's wrong?" Hamish asked. As Hamish was talking, the man had walked away, eating an apple.

"Nothing, Just….Do you think this bread?" She asked, showing him something. Hamish nodded, watching Vivienne paying for the food.

"Do you think Greg will come out on time?" Vivienne asked about thirty minutes later, waiting in the parking lot of Scotland Yard.

"Never." Hamish answered, working on his math homework in the back, enjoying a smoothie Vivienne bought him. "Aunt Vi, I should have got the peach mango."

"I warned you Pear wouldn't be a good choice." Vivienne countered, taking the time to grade one of her papers, sipping her own peach smoothie, a Strawberry waiting in the other cup holder for her husband. As they talked it was beginning to rain heavily, Hamish and Vivienne both watching it silently. As they watched, Greg was coming out of the building, covering himself against the rain as he ran to the warm car.

"A little wet?" Vivienne teased to her soaking wet husband, the older man settling into the car, throwing his wet coat in the back with Hamish.

"A little." He admitted, reaching over to kiss her, Vivienne gently kissing him as well, her fingers in his hair.

"Aunt Vi, Eww!" Hamish exclaimed in the back. Greg reaching over to poke Hamish, breaking away to speak to his nephew, Hamish wrinkling his nose at the little bit of water that flecked his way.

"Had a good day at school, Hal?" He asked. Hamish shrugged while Vivienne backed the car out.

"It was okay. Got in trouble for sleeping in class." He answered.

"Your nephew here is up all night dreaming of his girlfriends." Vivienne teased, exchanging a look in the rearview mirror with the little boy, Greg turning up the radio as she drove, The Clash playing as Greg wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"Hamish is beginning to ask questions." Vivienne said hours later. She came out of the shower wrapped in a large fluffy towel, Greg on the bed watching TV.

"What kind of questions?" Greg asked, Top Gear's newest episode playing as Vivienne sat down next to him, her body damp against his.

"He's asking about his mum and I don't really know what to tell him." She said, Greg and Vivienne having seen Hamish go home to his father just an hour ago, the three of them having eaten dinner together.

"Don't tell him anything. Don't dig up the past." Greg said evenly, wrapping an arm around her waist, his hand going on her gently rounded stomach. "I know it's hard for you. But I think it's better to leave the revelation to Sherlock and John." Vivienne smiled, loving how he always managed to ground her in some way, resting her head on his shoulder as cars were speeding by the screen.

"He said he's been dreaming of a man who's telling him these things. But he won't tell Sherlock or John." She said, Greg looking down at her.

"It must be something he watched on TV. Don't worry yourself about it." Greg said, stroking her damp hair, taking in the clean scent of his wife just out of the shower, smiling a little at having his wife there with him, the whole weekend cleared for both of them. And this almost never happened that they had the weekends free together. "So, what do you want to do this weekend?" He asked, Vivienne getting up to put on her pajamas.

"Oh, I don't know. We can check out a movie, maybe go get coffee." She said, turning to him playfully, just in a pair of his boxers, Greg looking over to see her topless. Oh god, he loved her breasts, the orbs he loved to fondle getting bigger everyday with pregnancy, the nipples dark. "All I know is tomorrow we should sleep in and forget the world." She said, crawling back on the bed to kiss her husband, Greg turning to her to deepen the kiss, his hands reaching to cup her breasts, taking in their comfortable weight as she straddled his lap. The two of them kissed passionately, Greg rubbing his rough thumbs lightly over her nipples. Vivienne moaned in pleasure, her hair spilling over him as she caressed his face, admiring the small amount of stubble on his face.

"Darling, you would look so sexy if you just grew a beard." Vivienne whispered, unbuttoning his shirt. He shook his head, helping her take off his shirt, throwing it to the floor.

"You know everyone would make fun of me." He answered. "Think of what Sherlock would say about it." He said, moving her so they were both lying on their sides facing each other, Greg's trousers getting kicked off.

"Who cares what they think? You're going to be a father soon. Why not?" She groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he reached over to kiss her neck, taking in the faint scent of lilacs on her, the scent he bought as part of his wedding present to her. It was the little things he liked about being married to this beautiful woman, which she seemed to read his mind about what he loved.

"I already get shit for being married to you." He groaned, pulling her closer to him, Vivienne curling up into his chest. Both of them got it from their families, about being married with a 13 year age difference. Violet Holmes used to be the worst about it, saying that Vivienne was throwing her life away to be a Di's wife, Sally and Anderson joking about how Lestrade's wife had to be home in time for curfew.

"When did you ever worry about what people thought? We're happy together, about to have a child, what more could we ask for?" She kissed his forehead, rubbing the back of his head where he liked it. He smiled a little, pulling her in as close as he could.

"Yea? Who cares?" He said, playfully nipping his teeth at her nose. Vivienne giggled at him, Greg smiling as he got up to take a shower himself. As he showered, Vivienne got under the sheets, electing to read a book while the shower steam filled the bathroom, Greg humming peacefully as he washed himself up.

He came out a few minutes later, the steam filling the master bathroom as he dried himself off as he threw on a pair of boxer shorts, coming back into the bedroom. Vivienne was by then immersed into her book as Greg came back into bed, turning off the TV as Vivienne put her book down, rolling over to face him. "I think I like seeing you like this." Greg noted as he stroked her hair, Vivienne caressing his face.

"Like what?" She asked, letting Greg roll her on her back, resting his head on her shoulder.

"In these months, I didn't think I could be any happier. But now that we're having a child, together, I just didn't think I could be any happier." He noted, resting her head against her breasts. She nodded, stroking his hair.

"Your fascination with my breasts is almost fruedian." She whispered, kissing the top of his head as she was falling asleep, Greg by then already dozing off.

"No, they're just mine." Greg slurred, drifting off to sleep, Vivienne joining him a minute later.

"_Kate! Kate!" Irene called, soaking in the bath tub. The opulent bathroom was done up all in black and silver, matching Irene as sixteen year old Vivienne came up the stairs, holding up a tray._

"_Ms. Adler, that's not my name." Vivienne whispered, setting the tray down on a small table._

"_Oh sorry, my last assistant was named Kate." Irene's smooth voice washed over the room as Vivienne held up a bath sheet, Irene stepping out of the tub. In the four months since Vivienne had been caught, Irene took her as an assistant, mostly out of pity, mostly because it didn't take ten seconds of seeing the girl showered and in decent clothes to gather who her family was. And Irene couldn't not keep her around, especially with those cheekbones of hers. "And Kate, remember you'll have to lay out my party attire." Irene noted as Vivienne wrapped her in the bath sheet._

_And overall life was good for Vivienne. She was given a small guest room, some of Irene's old clothes, and three meals a day. And that's all she could really ask for, right? She was happy at times, content more the better term. _

"_Ms. Adler, which corset will you be wearing?" Vivienne asked, opening up Irene's closet._

"_The red one. And do be careful with it. Two of my most important clients are coming to the party." Irene noted as Vivienne towel-dried her hair. _

"_Who is it?" Vivienne asked, genuinely curious. Even if she was Irene's new assistant, she knew never little about Irene's profession. Sure she dealt with the tools but seeing her in action was what Vivienne wanted to see._

"_It's whom darling. And these two men are very important. I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight." Irene said as Vivienne passed her the body lotion she pointed to. _

"_I get to come to the party?" Vivienne said, her voice lifting in expectation._

"_Of course dear. Who else is going to pour drinks? Now, my moisturizer." She said, Vivienne speeding up. _


End file.
